


Haunting

by Nupitrr



Series: Writeoween [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Cute ghost nero is my life, Gen, Ghosts, Highschool AU, This might become its own series idk yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 06:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8194606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nupitrr/pseuds/Nupitrr
Summary: Prompt 2/30: Vampires/Ghosts





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 30 minute woohoo

He didn't know the bus stops before him nor did he really care. He knew his own stop and about how long of a nap he could take between school and home, which was all that mattered. He was the third to last stop in the morning, making him the third stop in the afternoon. The drive from his stop was always thirty minutes through a foggy neighborhood and worn back roads. Nothing eventful happened, and it was a quiet trip.

He was rarely awake during the morning bus ride, so it took Dante a while to realize the weird route the bus driver would take. Between his stop and that of the sixth grader who seemed to stay sick was another stop. It was an unusual, one at a dead end in a small rural neighborhood. There was one line streetlamp there that cast an eerie yellow glow across the cracked pavement. It was always foggy in this side of Capulet, but here it seemed especially dense. It gave him the creeps just thinking about it and Dante was glad that he slept through it most days.

Every morning the bus driver would stop there, open up the doors for a few moments and close it. It was like any other stop on the route except no child ever got on or off the bus. The door would swing open to the empty street to let in the sticky air and nothing else before swinging closed once again.

Maybe it was someone who occasionally rode the bus? Or perhaps it was one of the stops that was going to be cut? Dante tried to brush it off for a while until halfway through the year. Every morning the bus driver did the same thing, and everyday Dante became a little more curious.

It was winter now, the cold winds biting at his flesh through the layers he wore. Dante stared aimlessly out the window, watching the street lamps zoom by in a blur of light and color. In a moment they would stop again, open the door to the bitter cold air, and keep going. He wished that his bus driver would at least stop it at this time of year; it was too cold to open the door for no reason.

The door flew open. With it, a gust of wind swept through the bus. Moments later the door slipped shut again, and the bus was rolling. Dante glanced to the door with a sigh, eyes scanning the seats in front of him. He would've closed them, just accepted that his bus driver was a look who had a weird habit.

Then he saw _him._

A boy, about his age, in a thick sweater and snow boots. He was staring ahead at nothing and didn't seem to move, to breathe. In fact he didn't even look _real._ Every time they passed a streetlamp, the light seemed to pass right through him as if he were nothing. Like he was translucent 

_Like he was a ghost._

Dante tried not to think about it when he got to school. Tried not to think about how icy blue his eyes were or how white his hair was. He especially tried to ignore how when he'd passed the boy on his way off the bus, he hadn't been in his seat. Exhaustion and stress, that was all.

He didn't bother looking for him the next day. Was he in denial? Maybe afraid of something? Dante wasn't sure, and he didn't know if he wanted to find out either. But he didn't have to look for him; each morning he could _feel_ him come in with the gust of wintery wind. He knew he was sitting there without even looking. Some days he'd peek an eye open just to confirm, and everyday he sat unmoving in a different sweater and scarf, staring out at the street.

One morning, a particularly cold morning after a flurry, there were a few kids sitting in different places than usual. One was seated in the ghost kid’s seat, unaware of the ritual they were interfering with. Dante held his breath and closed his eyes as the bus slowed to a stopped at the dead end and the door flew open. The familiar gust of wind blew through the bus and settled. He peeked an eye open and almost fell out of his seat.

Right next to him sat the ghost boy, staring right at him with piercing blue eyes. He sat unblinking, unmoving, as if expecting Dante to do something. He, for one, was dumbfounded. They didn't teach you what to do when you have a paranormal encounter on the bus before seven a.m. in school.

 _Is this seat taken?_ He heard a soft voice in his head. Low but melodic, definitely that of someone in high school. He was his age. Had he just spoken in his head though?

 _No...it's fine._ Dante tried. He willed the thought to reach the ghost boy, praying that whatever he'd done worked both way. By the smile on his face, it worked.

 _Thanks._ He sighed. The ghost reclined against the seat, pulling his knees up against the back of the seat in front of him. _So, you noticed me, huh?_

 _I guess you could say that. How long have you been, uh, riding?_ Dante eyed him in his peripheral as he looked out the window. He wanted to look nonchalant, as if he weren't having a conversation with a ghost in his head.

 _Maybe twenty years in this form._ He mused. Those blue eyes seemed to shimmer briefly with faint tears.

_What happened to you?_

_Our bus ran off of a cliff. Almost everyone died except the bus driver._ The ghost nodded towards the front of the bus. Dante's eyebrows shot up in shock. That was the kind of stuff that only happened in movies.

 _So what are you haunting him or something?_ There was a soft laugh in his head, and when he turned the ghost boy’s eyes were closed and he was smiling.

 _Yeah, I guess you could say something like that._ His voice faded from Dante's head, and the both sat in silence, letting the lull of the bus’ engine and the rhythm of wheels on asphalt soothe them.

When the approached Dante's school, the ghost boy’s eyes darkened.

 _Guess it's time for you to go._ He sighed. _It sucks. You're the first person I've talked to in years._

 _I mean, I'll be back this afternoon._ He suggested, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. The ghost boy shrugged.

 _I guess, but it's lonely here until then. I miss being a student._ Those glistening tears returned, this time overflowing onto his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. Dante reached out to grab one of his hands and was shocked when they felt solid.

 _Don't worry, I'm here for you._ Dante smiled at him, squeezing his transparent hand. _You're welcome to sit with me everyday. You can leave the bus, right?_ He watched him nod slowly. 

_Great. Today after school, I'm going to show you what you've missed these past twenty years._ The ghost boy's eyebrows arched in surprise and excitement. Slowly a smile spread across his face. Dante nodded and stood up to leave.

 _Nero._ Halfway down the steps, Dante paused and looked back towards the seat.

_My name is Nero. Nice to meet you, Dante._


End file.
